


Haze Him

by AphAfterDark



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Anal Sex, Consent Issues, Creampie, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gangbang, Hazing, Humiliation, M/M, Manipulation, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, rush - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:15:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphAfterDark/pseuds/AphAfterDark
Summary: Fraternities aren’t really Keith’s thing. No one would look at his troubled record, his tendency for truancy and mischief, and think that he had any interest in the All-American tradition of fraternities. What gets his name on the sign up list in the end is Shiro.[non-con filth fic]
Relationships: Keith (Voltron)/Other(s), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 203





	1. Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> **Additional tags:** This story will feature sex between Keith and all characters listed in the top tag. Leans Shiro/Keith, but Keith gets fucky with everyone. Keith is 'consenting' herein to get into a fraternity, but tagged for non-con because it's DUBIOUS. The fraternity is called Alpha Beta Omega, but this is not an A/B/O universe. I just thought it would be funny.

Fraternities aren’t really Keith’s thing. No one would look at his troubled record, his tendency for truancy and mischief, and think that he had any interest in the All-American tradition of fraternities. What gets his name on the sign up list in the end is Shiro.

It’s always fucking Shiro.

Growing up Shiro had been his first friend, and even over a decade later, still his best. They’d been neighbors, childhood friends, and then—

Then Keith’s crush. Shiro is three grades his senior, the well-liked golden boy with brains and muscles and a smile that could make anybody swoon. Keith hadn’t stood a chance. The crush is years old by the time Keith gets into the same college as Shiro, but it’s roots are deep and immovable. Keith is powerless against the draw of him.

So he signs up for the stupid Alpha Beta Omega fraternity. They take his name, student number, cell phone, and email. They promise to contact him when rush starts. The whole business leaves a bad taste in Keith’s mouth all the way back to his dorm.

When he calls and tells Shiro that evening though, seeing his excited smile makes it all worth it. Keith could kick himself.

“If you get in we could totally room next year!” Shiro says. On the screen behind him is said room. It’s nice for a fraternity, but of course it would be. Keith’s been once or twice to the house to see Shiro. The thought of sharing a space with him makes his heart pound. He hadn’t even thought that far.

He’s barely shared the same school with Shiro over the years due to the age gap. The idea of being that close to him is a heady incentive.

##

A week and a half later Keith gets a text from an unknown number.

[unknown]: αβΩ rushee, you will be now known as Omega#23. Please report on Monday, September 15 at 6PM to the αβΩ house, identify yourself by number. Failure to report will eliminate you from the rush.

That’s two days from now. Keith pulls up the calendar on his phone and puts it in. He’d scheduled some library time that evening to start working on a paper, but it’ll have to be rescheduled.

He signed up, so he’s dedicated. Keith has a goal now and more than enough will to follow through.

##

“There are three stages of rush,” Zar, the president of the fraternity says.

He stands before them, well dressed and practically looming. Keith and all the other ‘omegas’ have been permanent markered with their number across their cheek, and asked to stand in the entryway. The leadership of the frat is just behind Zar, looking over them.

Keith swallows the nerves that start to rise. He can do this.

“The first stage is Alpha, and it will be about strength,” Zar says. “None of the stages are easy, but Alpha Beta Omega is one of the most exclusive and prestigious fraternities, and for good reason. We don’t just take anyone, only the strongest, sharpest, and most persistent will make it in. If you’ll look around you, all the other Omegas here, those are your competition. We only have ten bids to give for fall.”

There’s a low murmur around Keith. The hall is crammed with guys, all with marked cheeks. A lot of competition.

“Now, Commander,” Zar turns to a large man standing just at his elbow. The man is sharp featured with two-toned eyes. “Why don’t you put these omegas through their paces.”

Zar steps back and then the leadership parts.

“Alright,” Commander says. “Let’s go grunts!”

They walk through and under the stairs arch and then across the houses’ living area. Beyond another set of doors is what looks like a large gym. All the equipment has been pushed to the sides.

“You will not speak unless spoken to. I don’t accept backtalk, and if at any point you have a problem with the tasks demanded of you,” Commander gestures to the door they just walked through. “There’s the door, we will cut you without remorse.”

There’s a general sense of agreement around Keith.

“Good. Now strip.”

For a moment nobody moves.

“Last to follow orders will get cut,” Commander clips.

That shocks everyone into motion. There’s hissed whispers of protest, but quickly everyone around Keith is pulling off their shoes and shirt. Keith scrambles to follow. He doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t have time to. He dedicated himself to this, he can’t falter at the first task.

Within a minute Commander cuts two men who have refused to undress. The rest of them are standing naked and awkward there in the gym.

“Spread out,” Commander says. “This one will be easy enough, pushups until you break. I’ll keep count, and the first ten who stop are cut.”

They spread out, but as directions are given they begin to size each other up. Keith clocks a few men that he can obviously beat, their arm musculature says they haven’t lifted anything for exercise possibly ever. He sees several men in return eye him up and down, likely picking him an easy loser.

Keith knows he’s compact, but he’s stronger than he looks. Shiro made sure of that.

They all get down on the ground. It’s awkward doing it naked. Keith’s skin presses into the cold flooring. In front of him is a skinny kid, ass in Keith line of sight. Keith turns away.

“And up on your hands,” Commander says.

Keith pushes himself up into his hands, keeps his eyes facing down. Acutely he feels his soft cock hang down. When he peeks to look, a flush of heat runs through him. There’s something strangely lewd about this.

“One,” the man barks. Keith and everyone around him does a pushup. “Two,” Another. “Three.”

Commander counts on and on. Keith pulls his awareness in and focuses. He keeps his breathing even, his form good, and listens to the count. Around him are the sounds of exertion, he ignores them. He ignores the pain starting in his muscles as the numbers climb, he can do this.

At the fifty count, Keith begins to struggle. He’s breathing hard and his arms are starting to really ache. He doesn’t even know how he’s doing because he’s had his eyes shut to concentration.

“fifty-two,” Commander says. He’s slowed in his counting as he’s gotten higher. Maybe everyone else is also struggling.

Keith pushes himself up, but just barely. Someone in the room curses, then there’s a thump.

“fifty-three.”

Keith does it. His arms are starting to shake.

“fifty-four.”

He gulps air. He’s sweating. When he goes down he can feel his cock is half-hard. It brushes the mat, too low. Bad form. He barely makes it back up.

“fifty-five.”

Keith collapses. He blinks his eyes open at once, but finds delightedly that most of the rushes are already down. In fact, Keith can only see three other men still in, huge men with arms that clearly mean they’ve worked for it. It means Keith is not going to get cut.

The last one doing push-ups gives in at seventy-five.

Commander has a paper in hand and he clears his throat to get their attention.

“Six, twelve, twenty-one, forty-four, fifty-two, fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-two, sixty-seven, seventy-one. You’ve been cut. The rest of you, there will be a ten minute break.”

There are no orders to redress, so no one does. Many of the men remain seated, trying to cover themselves subtly. It’s still obvious that a lot of them are hard. Keith is no exception.

He tries not to think about it. The leadership walk the room looking them over like meat. Their eyes drop to look at cocks as though it’s their right. It’s invasive, but Keith keeps his mouth shut.

After the ten minutes are up, Commander makes them go outside and run. It’s two laps around the house, not difficult except for the nudity. There’s nothing said on if speed matters, or if more will be cut coming in last here, so Keith doesn’t risk it. None of the other rushees do either.

Keith is more confident in this. Speed has always been his thing, his build practically demands it. He comes in second, beaten by just one long-legged skinny guy who must be an actual runner. As Keith crosses the finish, he sees someone take note of his number. Beside the embarrassment he feels a swell of pride.

“Good job,” the runner who beat him says as they retire to the sidelines.

Keith nods, and sort of turns himself away. They’re both still naked, and now he’s more than a little hard. Running naked had been… weird. He hadn’t loved the bouncing, but the blood-pumping rush of it had still done a lot for him. The man beside him is also hard.

More men finish and their numbers are written down. When the last one crosses, Commander gets their attention once more.

“Good enough for today,” he says, walking down the line of them.

His two-colored eyes are sharp as he looks them all over. Most of the men are hard and sweaty, some are panting. The energy of it all makes Keith want to cover himself.

“You’ll report back tomorrow, same time. Tomorrow’s alpha tasks are more involved, so I suggest you all come clean and well-rested. Dismissed.”

It’s an ominous warning. Keith takes it, and goes with the rushees back into the gym where their clothing has been left. There’s little talk among them as the leadership is still watching. Keith dresses quickly and leaves.

[Shiro]: how’d first day go???

When Keith gets back to his dorm, the text is waiting for him on his phone. He considers for a moment telling Shiro how uncomfortable he’d felt naked and ordered around like that, but he deletes it after only a sentence. Everyone know frat rushes can get weird, and likely Shiro went through all the tasks himself.

Keith doesn’t want to seem like a complainer, or like he doesn’t want to get into this frat. He does, more than anything.

He types back instead a quick _Great!_ and then takes himself to the shower.

##

“Strip.”

It’s the first thing Commander says when they’re all in the gym area again. No one hesitates, and before a minute is up, they’re all nude.

“Today’s challenge is a more direct competition. You will all be partnered off, and then out in the yard we’ve set up a wrestling ring. Each pair will be given two minutes. If you can get a pin or a tap out, that will look good for you. A draw is neutral. The only rule is there will be _No_ blood or serious injury. You injure another guy, you’re out. Strength is about control as much as it is about brute force. There will be no more eliminations by loss, pledges will be chosen by cumulative points, so if you lose here you can make it up.”

There’s a few sounds from the men, but no one speaks.

“One and seventeen,” the Commander barks. “You’re up first.”

They go out into the yard and are made to stand and watch as the first two omegas step into the roped off grassy clearing. Two of the leadership men speak to them briefly, and then pour something that looks like oil on each of them.

The leaders run their hands over the omegas, smearing the oil across their chests, shoulders and backs. When they’re finished they step out of the ring. A whistle blows and the two opponents start.

It’s a slippery task, making a straightforward sport much more difficult. The nudity adds a layer, as when the men do get down into the grass fighting to pin each other, it immediately becomes inherently erotic. By the time the whistle blows with no victor, both men are breathing hard and their cocks are stiff.

Another two numbers are called out, the process is repeated.

Keith watches mostly draws, but every so often there is a clear pin. One man takes advantage of the nudity, and in a tussle puts his cock right on his opponents face. The man sputters, letting go to try and get away, and before he knows it the man has shifted and completed a pin.

After that more of the omegas move to dirty tactics. Like the Commander said, brute strength won’t work here because the oil and the restrictions on injury make it too difficult. It’s easier to get a hand around a cock and stroke it, easier to rut against an ass until the distraction leads to error.

It’s a lot to watch though. Keith glances beside himself, at the other men still waiting for their turn. More than a few are already hard from the spectacle. There’s a lot of grunting and skin slapping noises from the ring. It’s hard not to be affected.

Keith’s heart is pounding by the time his number is called. He steps forward and then sees the other man who’s been chosen as his opponent.

He’s dark skinned and much larger than Keith in stature. He has a headband that’s clearly cultural, and so has been excused from the nudity rule. As they step in the ring all Keith can think about is how this matchup is definitely stacked against him. He can’t complain though, several other matches have been unfair as far as weight class, and he’s pretty sure speaking up with get him cut faster than a loss.

One of the fraternity leaders walks up to him with oil. He’s a handsome guy with glasses and a smirk.

“Reminder no blood, no injuries,” the man says as he pours the oil on each of Keith’s shoulders.

Keith jolts when the hands touch him. They smooth down his front with way too much familiarity. He can practically feel the man look down at his cock. It’s more than a little hard. Those hands wander down to Keith’s belly, smearing oil.

“Thirteen is bigger,” the man says. His hands move around Keith’s waist and to just above his ass. “But if you use this ass I’m sure you can win.”

Keith opens his mouth, something smart on his tongue, but then the guy is stepping away and out of the ring. Keith can still feel his eyes on his body, and it fills him with rage. He snaps his mouth shut and turns that inward. He needs to focus.

Across from him Thirteen is glistening in oil. The whistle blows.

Keith focuses on his strength— speed. He tries not to let Thirteen’s hands land on him, and does his best to slip from any hold. The first couple of times it works, but then Thirteen catches on. He herds Keith to the edge of the ring, and before Keith realizes it, he’s trapped.

It’s worse probably to step outside the ring, so he doesn’t. The man gets a hand on his arm and with all that strength, Keith doesn’t stand a chance. A second later he’s on the ground. The man follows him, pinning his legs, pressing him down with his hips.

A hardness slides against Keith’s ass. The man’s cock. Keith makes a sound of frustration and tries to squirm. This only leads to Thirteen increasing the weight. Another hand wraps around his own, pinning it to the grass.

Keith’s losing. He tries to leverage himself by pushing his hips up, but the man only grinds back down. His cock ruts right through the oil and against Keith. The man curses softly.

Keith can feel himself throb where he’s pressed into the grass. He keeps trying to get out of it, even as he knows it’s useless. Thirteen shifts once more and then both of Keith’s shoulders are down. The man’s cock is huge and hot against his ass. They’re both sweaty, slippery.

Absurdly it makes Keith wonder if the man likes it. If he likes having Keith like this. If the cock pressing so hard against his ass is more than just a physical reaction. His cheeks burn at the thought. It wouldn’t take much more for this man to be fucking him. The right angle, a finger of oil.

And Keith wouldn’t be able to stop it. Maybe no one would. _If you use this ass I’m sure you can win._ It’s clear at least one of the men in the leadership have no problem with the rush tasks escalating to that.

Several of the matches have been near things, men rubbing and frotting against each other. More than one has ended up with a cock so near to a mouth it would have just taken a little push and—

The whistle blows. Instantly Thirteen moves off of him. Keith pushes himself up and catches one of the leaders writing down his loss. It’s a hot flare of shame along with the embarrassment of the situation.

They exit the ring and are given towels. Keith wipes himself clean while another pair are called to the ring. His cock is aching between his legs, his whole body primed to get off. More than one of the omegas glance his way. More than one of those looks are hungry. Intent.

Keith can only imagine how he looked, face down with a cock thrusting against his ass. Like an easy target. Like maybe he liked it.

 _Fuck_.

He was doing so well, and then this. The only part to be grateful for is that it wasn’t an elimination task. Small mercies.

It takes another half an hour for all the men to have a go. Keith tries not to watch, tries to calm himself down, but he doesn’t know how successful he is. He hates losing.

“Alright Omegas, same as yesterday. You’re dismissed, be back here clean and ready for the next challenge. Tomorrow’s is an individual strength challenge, so those of you that lost day you can redeem yourselves.”

They go back into the gym and Keith dresses. He hurries back to his apartment, still sticky and over-hot from the shame of his loss.

Still, he finds himself in the shower reaching down for his cock. It stiffens almost immediately to the thought of earlier, the feeling of being beneath such a large man. Being _powerless_.

That’s what it would be like with Shiro. Shiro is big. Strong. He could manhandle Keith without breaking a sweat. Keith would fight a little just to feel those hands tighten on him, just to sweeten the angle where Shiro could fuck his leaking cockhead against Keith’s hole— could force himself in and—

Keith comes, stroking himself desperately. The pleasure is the pent up kind and it’s better for it. He breathes hot as the pleasure runs through him, as he milks himself to end.

He’s left pressed up against the cold shower wall, a twisted up feeling in the pit of his belly.

##

The next evening Commander stands before them after they’ve been stripped down once more.

“In the yard is a bench. You’ll each try to bench press as many times as possible, but there will be a catch.”

They go out into the backyard and sure enough a bench has been placed in center. A number is called and a man steps forward. Two of the leadership direct him to lay down, and straps are wound around his stomach to secure him to the bench. Commander steps behind the bench as spotter.

The leadership move down the bench. One of them has a bag and from it he pulls what looks like a vibrator.

“You come, you’re done. You drop the bar, you’re done.” A whistle is blown.

The man puts his arms to the barbell and lifts it off the rack. Immediately Commander bends to spot him. The man with the vibrator turns it on and takes it to the rushee’s cock.

He almost drops the weight. It’s a near thing, and he grunts to adjust. Keith looks at the weights, but they’re not particularly heavy. Commander wasn’t lying, it’s a hell of a catch.

The man gets fifteen reps before he’s struggling to return the barbell to the rack. His cock is hard and leaking against his abdomen as the two men take turns guiding the vibrator up and down.

The vibrator is pulled away, he’s unstrapped, and another number is called.

A handful of men come before they even hit fifteen reps. Keith doesn’t blame them, even just watching is a lot. Most of the men who are called to the bench after the first are already hard when they’re strapped down. It’s clear the two with the vibrator know what they’re doing.

Keith watches the man who beat him in wrestling yesterday bench a stunning twenty-two before returning the bar to the wrack. Most, Keith thinks, tend to bail before they hit their actual strength ceiling. Best to get out with less reps than to come or drop the bar. There may not be elimination, but there is a strategy to these tasks. Some points are better than a loss.

Then Keith’s number is called.

He forces himself forward, feeling all the eyes move to him. That’s maybe the worst part, all the focus. He’s stripped bare for everyone to look at, and it’s distracting. When he lays down on the bench the memory of the shower pops into his head. They’re all watching him, maybe some of them lustfully.

 _Fuck_. He needs to focus.

He’s strapped in, adjusted for his trim waist after the last guy. Keith looks up at the bar and beyond it, Commander’s face. His two-toned eyes are staring right back down. Keith forces a swallow.

When he looks down, it’s the man with the glasses from yesterday. He smirks and takes up the vibrator. The whistle blows.

Keith reaches and takes the bar just as the vibrator touches him. He grips hard at the metal to brace as that sensation runs through him. _Fuck_ , he’s too hard, already too worked up for this.

He forces his mind to the task, to the barbell. He needs a good show after yesterday, needs to make up some points. Keith lifts it off the rack and lowers it to his chest. _One_. He pushes up and brings it back down. _Two_.

Commander keeps count. Keith meets his eyes again and feels himself flush. The man is so close, so intent. Keith wonders if he’s liking this, if he’s getting off on the power of it, making all these men perform for him.

Keith passes five, then ten. His arms really aren’t hurting, but the tension in his stomach begins to build. The vibrator is passing over his cockhead, under to where he’s most sensitive. He feels his cock throb and he tenses the muscle further, tries to focus.

Another five. He wants to close his eyes to escape how Commander is staring, how if he looked down he’s sure Glasses is watching with that lascivious gaze. Closing his eyes is bad for balance though, bad for trying to ignore the sensations building inside him.

 _Fuck_ , it feels good. Keith’s hips try to shift and then the vibrator kicks up. Keith almost chokes. His knuckles hurt from how hard they’re gripping the metal. He hits twenty and feels like he’s skating on the edge. He’s sweating and everything is building higher and higher.

He knows the men watching made under-their-breath comments every time a guy came and failed out. He doesn’t want to, doesn’t want them to see him—

The vibrator presses _just so_ , and Keith nearly forgets himself. The bar wobbles in his grip. Commander moves minutely as though ready to grab it. It’s humiliating.

At twenty-three Keith shoves the barbell back on the rack. His whole body is tight, on the edge of ruin. The vibrator pulls away.

“Too bad,” the guy with glasses says, voice low. “Would have loved to see you blow it.”

Commander is still right there, so Keith grits his teeth and says nothing. He’s unstrapped and dismissed. Another number is called.

Keith walks back to the group, awkward from how backed up he feels. There’s a wet smear on his abdomen, and a few men look his way, eyes dropping below the waist.

This time when Keith gets back to his apartment and shower, it’s Glasses who comes to mind when he gets a hand on himself.

_Would have loved to see you blow it._

He knows the man meant every word. Keith reimagines the task going that way, the man sliding that vibrator against him just a little faster. Him leaning in to whisper, _you’re going to come for me_ , so self-assured. As if Keith has no choice.

_Going to come for me, and Commander is going to watch. He’s going to be so disappointed to see you making a mess of yourself. You just couldn’t help yourself though. Such a slut. All these men watching you. Wanting you._

And what they would think of him after this? Slutty. _Easy_. They already saw him bent over, cock rutting across his ass. Now they’ll see him come. See how sensitive he is, how much he liked being strapped down and teased.

Tied down the way he was he wouldn’t be able to do anything if the men had wanted more. If Commander had taken his cock out, Keith’s mouth was right there. It would have slid in easily and—

Keith comes to the thought. It’s so wrong, so bad, and he can’t help it. He spills against the shower wall, a soft moan in the back of his throat. His cock practically aches with the release. It feels good even as it shames him.

When Shiro texts him later that night to congratulate him on getting through the Alpha portion of the rush, he can barely stand to look at the text. In the end Keith responds something meager, barely a sentence. He doesn’t want to be reminded.

Tomorrow starts the Beta tasks. Commander had dismissed them earlier with a careless ‘instructions to come’. Keith cannot even begin to imagine what is next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's your infamous anon author of such stories as 'Infiltration' and 'Bend to Break'. Finally I've made an account and moved these all here. Now you can subscribe and never miss one!
> 
> This fic is finished and a new chapter will drop every day. Scream at me in the comments, it fuels my writing.


	2. Beta

For the whole next day he hears nothing. Keith goes to his classes, work on homework, texts with Shiro. He checks his phone over and over again, worrying maybe he missed a summons, but no. Nothing. He almost expresses this worry to Shiro, but figures he will give it one more day.

That night, in the middle of the night, Keith is woken to a hand over his mouth and two unrecognizable men grabbing him.

“Rise and shine Omega,” one of them says. It’s only this that makes Keith calm, that stops his immediate thrashing.

He’s pulled up out of bed in just his briefs and taken to the door. Keith tries to protest, but the guys are strong and rush him down the hall easily.

“If you really don’t want to pass Beta, we’ll let you go back to the room,” one says. He seems honest about it which cuts off the rest of Keith’s protesting.

They go down the stairs and out of the dorm. It’s the middle of the night and the campus is dark and quiet. Keith’s barefoot and under-dressed, he crosses his arms at the slight chill. The two men with him have mostly let him go once he started cooperating.

They go past two buildings and then a hand falls to his shoulder to stop him.

“This part’s blindfolded,” one of the men say. He unzips a bag and sure enough pulls out what looks like a sleeping mask. “We’ll guide you.”

It’s surreal and strange, but Keith doesn’t want to risk getting kicked out. He nods and the mask is put over his eyes.

“If you take it off before you’ll told, that’s immediate elimination,” of them says.

They take his hands then and bracket him, guiding him forward. It’s a slower walk after that, but Keith’s nerves shoot up anyway at having to do it blindly.

“Step,” one says and helps him not stub his toe. Another bumps him gently by the hip to shift his course. It’s decidedly careful how they guide him, and that’s a small comfort. There’s no inappropriate touches, and they seem very well practiced in caring for an unseeing individual. Keith gets, for the first time, the sense of what this frat could be. Companionship, brotherhood.

Maybe Keith could have more than just Shiro. That would be nice, to have more friends.

“Door.”

One lets go of his hand and there’s a sense of movement. A door, supposedly, opening. They go into a colder building and walk some more. There’s a ding and an elevator ride. He’s guided out. There’s the sound of talking, murmurs of other people. Keith flushes to realize other people could be here, seeing him just in his briefs.

“Okay there’s a chair, sit here.”

He’s lowered with the same care, and comes to sit on a cushioned chair. A breath he didn’t know he’d been holding pushes out of his lungs. Easier just to sit here blindfolded than to have to walk more.

Minutes tick by. There’s some low talking that Keith can’t hear.

“Sit,” someone says. Keith can tell there’s another chair to his left.

“What’s your number?” It’s a voice above him. Keith tilts his head up.

“Twenty-three,” Keith says.

The person moves to his left.

“What’s your number?”

“Twenty-four,” says the someone in the chair.

“Just missing Fifteen and Eleven.”

“Adam said he had trouble with the Kerb dorm.”

“We’ll give it a few more minutes.”

It takes another ten minutes or so, but then Keith hears the elevator and people walking in. Someone is sat further down, and when asked he states he is Fifteen. Eleven arrives on the heels of that.

“Alright Omegas,” a man says. It’s a familiar voice, possibly Glasses. “Welcome to the Beta trials. We’ve had some rushees drop, so you should be happy to know there are now less than fifty of you competing. Better odds, but tougher competition. This trial is a single event, and the only ways to get eliminated are removal of the blindfold or by refusal to participate. As always you are free to walk out the door. Otherwise, it’s time-based scoring. Beta is all about cunning, so you will use your wits and skills to achieve the best time and highest score you can. You will notice you’ve been seated. Across from you is an Alpha member, and your task is to make him come as fast as possible. The Alpha will start your time when I blow the whistle.”

The information is a lot to take in all at once. Not having sight somehow makes it worse, makes it harder to integrate what the man is saying into Keith’s brain. Keith is supposed to…?

“Ready?”

He’s not. His mind is spinning. He’s been dragged out of bed and into some mysterious room and now he’s supposed to make some stranger come? How—

The whistle blows. 

Around him Keith hears people get up out of the chairs. He at once stands. His heartbeat ratchets up.

“Eleven is out,” someone says.

Keith doesn’t blame him. It’s sink or swim. Is Keith going to do this, or pull off his blindfold and walk out?

Before he knows it, Keith has walked a few steps and bumps into something.

“Woah there,” says a man’s voice.

Keith’s hand comes to touch what must be his thigh to steady himself. There’s sort fabric like joggers under his fingers. It’s soft.

“Clock’s running,” the man says.

Keith knows, but he hasn’t decided. Feels like he can’t. There’s too much pressure, and it’s hard to think blinded like this. Somewhere at a distance he hears another man swear, low. There’s a lewd slick sound. Tick tock, clock’s running.

Keith falls to his knees. If he’s in, he’s in. This won’t be his first anything, so he doesn’t need to be precious about it. He takes a deep breath and then trails his hands up thighs and to the waistband of the pants. When his fingers curl in, the man lifts his weight. Keith pulls the fabric down.

He can hear the sounds all around him now. He knows that he’s behind, that more than a few omegas are well on their way to—

There’s no time to be dawdling like this. Keith finds the man’s cock with one hand and wraps his fingers around it. It’s warm but still half soft. He strokes it.

“You won’t get a good time like that,” the man says. The tone isn’t mean, but rather matter of fact.

Keith grits his teeth on a knife-sharp comment. He knows, he _knows_. He can tell from the sounds that plenty of other rushees have cut to the chase. He shifts on his knees, already a little hard himself just from the adrenaline of the situation. He’s going to do this. He has to.

Keith leans in and tilts the man’s cock toward his mouth.

At the first touch to his lips there’s a strong smell of _maleness_. It’s clean but still strong, maybe stronger for the blindfold. Above, the man lets out of breath. Keith lets the cock push into his mouth. Tere’s a faintly salty taste. In Keith’s mouth it begins to harden.

He hasn’t given a ton of blowjobs in his life, but surely he can make up for it now. He thinks back to everything and anything that might have worked in his favor previously. Time is of the essence, and he didn’t come this far to fail. Keith tilts his head and goes all the way down in one smooth stroke, stopping just short of his gag reflex. The cock stiffens on his tongue and Keith presses his tongue to the underside. He begins to work it, up and down.

There’d been no rules other than the blindfold. This task is about cunning, about clever skill. Anything goes, supposedly, so long as they get to the outcome. And Keith needs a good time here, he needs to gain some ground in the standings after his wrestling defeat.

“Fourteen,” someone says. “1:12.”

The first omega to finish, just over a minute. _Fuck_.

“Clearly a pro.”

Keith curses himself and doubles his pace. The man is completely hard now, cock long and thick in his mouth. To take it properly would be to choke on it, and Keith pushes himself to it. He gags immediately but doesn’t pull away. The man’s cock twitches.

He likes it. Keith does it again. And again. Tears come to the corners of his eyes and he fights the urge to pull off.

Even so this is not enough. Keith can tell just by the way the man is breathing that he isn’t yet close to coming. Keith’s hands slide down between the man’s legs and fondle his balls. He pushes them up and the man groans.

“That’s it,” the man whispers. His hips are finally starting to move on their own, a promising sign. Keith feels a little out of his head about it, how desperate he is for this man to come. “Fuck, you look so good with your mouth full of cock.”

“He does,” comes another voice. _Glasses_. Of that Keith is almost certain.

At the same time one of Keith’s fingers slips back behind the man’s balls and he grunts, shoving forward. Keith chokes hard and almost pulls off, except for another rushee’s number and time is called. Tears burn behind the blindfold as Keith chokes, as the man’s cock blocks his air.

But then Keith’s fingers find that spot again and press with intent this time. The man swears blackly.

“You’ve almost got it twenty-three,” Glasses says.

Keith’s burning up. He hates that Glasses and maybe others are watching. That they’re enjoying watching him desperately suck a cock. He also knows that every time Glasses speaks Keith’s cock twitches in his briefs. It’s humiliating. 

He’s getting closer. Keith may not be doing an elegant job, but his enthusiasm is counting for a lot. Saliva drips down his face, his throat hurts, and Keith ignores it. He ignores the heavy smell of arousal and the sharp taste of the man’s pre-come. He needs this, he needs to _win_.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m—“

Keith stays with it, keeps working his mouth and tongue. He presses that space behind his balls and lets the man bottom out in his throat. It hurts, _aches_ , but he’s so close.

“Oh come on Matt, give the poor boy what he wants,” Glasses says. “Can’t you see how desperate he is?”

“ _Shit_.”

“You can come right down his throat, he’ll barely taste it.”

The man, Matt, hisses and then—

Then he’s coming, flooding Keith’s mouth with pulse after pulse of come. He grunts as he does so. The relief is so thick that Keith just swallows, head woozy and throat burning.

“Twenty-three,” Glasses says, “1:58.”

Dizzy with victory, he pulls off Matt and licks at his swollen lips. He’s sure his face is a mess, red and slick with spit. In all it was less than two minutes, but it felt like so much longer. A hand touches his hair, smoothing over it.

“You did good,” Glasses says.

Another number is called from somewhere in the room. Around him are still the sounds of men getting their cocks sucked. A few of them are talkers, doing their best to egg their omega on. Keith just stays there on the floor trying to catch his breath. He’s hard in his briefs, and he’s sweating. He knows undeniably what will happen when he leaves here.

_You look so good with your mouth full of cock._

It’s not that much of a stretch to reimagine that as Shiro.

Keith sits there until he feels steady enough to try and get back to his chair. His cock is still half hard, but he figures he’s probably one of the least interesting things still happening in the room. There are sounds of men coming every so often, and then another number and time called. It’s hot in a wrong kind of way.

He’s sort of glad he’s blindfolded for it. He’s not sure how he would feel watching men like himself desperate to suck a cock. The Alpha’s are clearly enjoying it, and it would be harder to see exactly how much.

To look up and see Glasses over Matt’s shoulder, watching him with interest as he choked on a cock. _Fuck_.

Keith does his best to keep those thoughts as bay until finally the last time is called. Twenty-five finishes with a time of 10:35, which Keith almost cringes at.

“Nice work Omegas,” Glasses says, addressing the room once more. “Now please keep your blindfolds on until you’ve been escorted out. That’s all for Beta. The final event, the Omega event, will take place toward the weekend. It’s an individual event focusing on endurance. It’s also your last chance to score points. Watch for the invite to come in the next few days. Dismissed.”

“Alright, up.” It’s Matt’s voice, and then a hand taps his own.

Keith takes his hand and gets to his feet. Matt guides him blindly around the chair and then down the hall and to the elevator. Other people get in and they all go down. They’re walked out of the building and back into the night.

They come to a stop and Matt lets go of his hand.

“Nice to meet you twenty-three, best of luck,” he says.

“Omegas stay blindfolded until the whistle, then you may take it off and go back to your dorms,” another man says.

There’s some movement, Keith senses Matt leave. Another group of omegas is brought out and given the same instruction. After another five minutes pass before there’s a whistle.

Keith pulls off his blindfold to find they’re all just standing in a darkened courtyard. There’s no surprise or anything, they’ve just been left there. For safety, Keith realizes. Best not to know whose cock you sucked to get in.

_Matt_. Keith probably wasn’t supposed to know the guy’s name.

They all part at once, avoiding eye contact and fleeing into the night like a weird walk of shame. Keith does his best not to think about it until he’s back in his dorm with the door locked behind him.

Not that that is much safety. The frat guys had master keys for the dorms, clearly.

Keith lays back down in his bed. It’s almost five in the morning by time on his phone. He doubts the entire thing took more than an hour. He feels different though. Changed. He knows now what he’s willing to do to get this thing he wants.

The last of come is still in his mouth. He just sucked a man off like his life depended on it, and he didn’t hate it. Keith reaches down and palms himself only to find a spot of wetness in the fabric.

He knows Shiro isn’t in leadership, that he isn’t a part of the hazing, but Keith wants to imagine it a different way. That instead of Glasses it’s Shiro who’s been watching him so closely. Shiro who’s been a little impressed by just how hard Keith is working. Who had seen how good he looks choking on a cock.

Keith shoves his briefs down. Or maybe Shiro is the man in the chair. Maybe at first he’s shocked to see Keith there, shocked to see what Keith is going to do this to get into this fraternity.

But then Keith gets down on his knees and Shiro can’t look away. The way Keith’s mouth slides down him would feel so good that Shiro would realize how much he wanted it. How much he wanted _Keith_.

He’d see Keith not just as his much younger friend, but—

And maybe he’d slip up. The Alphas aren’t allowed to touch Keith decides, it would mess with the fairness, but maybe Shiro couldn’t help himself. He’d see Keith trying so hard and his hands would slide into Keith’s hair. Would grasp him just on the right side of pain and make him take it.

_If you want my come so bad, I’ll give it to you_ , Shiro would say.

Keith whines even as Shiro fucks his throat to soreness. Tears drip down his cheek, but he loves it, he would do anything for Shiro.

The fantasy shifts suddenly, and Keith imagines what it could be like to get into this fraternity. His hand works quick over his own cock as his thoughts run away from him. He imagines a future where he and Shiro share a room and go to parties. Sometimes they get too drunk at those parties.

One day they end up messily kissing on their own couch, grinding against one another.

_I heard how well you did in rush_ , Shiro would murmur into his ear.

_Just for you,_ Keith would say. Bold, eager.

And Shiro would smile at him, a little soft and a little wicked. _Then let me make it worth it._

His thick fingers trail under and touch Keith’s hole and—

Keith comes in thick stripes. He strokes himself hard, lost in the fantasy, in the heady rush of everything that could be. Come covers his belly, making a mess, but he couldn’t care less. The pleasure is a deep thrum in his veins and he wants more.

He pants as he comes down and back to reality. The room is still dark and quiet.

He has one more task to complete. He can do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting in deep now Keith. Just the one task for Beta, can't tire those boys out too much before the final event... 
> 
> Chapter 3 is a 7k monster and it drops tomorrow. Comments fill my writer heart!


	3. Omega

[unknown]: congratulations omega, you are now in the top 30. The Omega task will be about endurance. To prove yourself, you are invited to the αβΩ party this Friday at 10pm.

It’s been two days of nothing when the text comes. Keith reads it five times before collapsing into his bed. _Top 30_. There’s ten spots, so that gives him good odds.

But he also knows these are the top competitors, and this is the last task. It’s bound to be worse than the Beta task, and Keith needs to be ready. Whatever it is, he has to commit himself to it 100%. He didn’t come this close to what he wants to stumble at the finish line.

Endurance.

Hopefully he has plenty of that for whatever they throw at him

##

Keith hears the party before he even sees the house. It’s in full swing with music and shouting, drunken party-goers. Keith takes a deep, steadying breath and heads up the drive.

At the door there’s a man seated with a tablet, he looks painfully bored as he smokes a cigarette.

“Hey,” Keith says as he gets to him. “I’m rushing, do I check in somewhere?”

The man flicks his ash and then looks Keith up and down.

“Yeah, here. Number?”

“Twenty-three.”

The man does some swiping on the tablet and then hands Keith a red paper bracelet. It’s the same kind used at music venues.

“Put this on, go in, and enjoy the party. When it’s your turn someone will find you.”

The instructions are painfully vague, but Keith sticks the band on.

“And if I were you,” the man says just as Keith goes to walk past him. “I’d get a drink or two in before they find you.”

“Thanks,” Keith says.

Inside is loud and chaotic. It’s packed with people and smells of sweat and alcohol. Keith makes his way through the entrance and into a large kitchen. There is a cooler of beers, a dark colored punch that looks ominous, and bottles upon bottles of liquor lining the counters.

Keith takes the safe bet and lifts one of the sealed beers out of the cooler.

He spends his time wandering then, sipping leisurely at the beer. He has no interest in having too much to drink in case the task requires any sort of complexity or dexterity. In the throngs of people he spots Alpha members and a few other omegas with their own paper bracelets. Keith stays clear of them as to not be drawn into conversation.

He wants to keep his head in the game. Whatever the game is.

So he walks toward the back to the gym and then back further to the lawn. It’s been set up with beer pong and corn hole, and there’s teams cheering on each side. Keith scans them all before realizing what he’s doing.

He’s looking for Shiro.

He hadn’t asked Shiro about the party, and Shiro hadn’t said if he’d be attending. Keith had felt almost too shy to, too afraid of the conclusions Shiro might draw from him having gotten this far. He knows Shiro got _in_ the fraternity, clearly he went through rush, but this is different.

Shiro so far has sounded proud of him, happy even that Keith’s rushing. Would he still feel that way given the details? Keith has no idea how these things work, how much any of the rushees are talked about behind the scenes. Shiro isn’t in leadership, but does he still hear through the grapevine?

He hasn’t treated Keith at all different, but this week has been so busy their communication has just been via text. Seeing Shiro would be better, more reassuring. At the same time Keith’s afraid of it.

He watches the games for a while and then goes back inside. The beer is almost finished so Keith ditches it in a recycling bin and then gets himself one more. Two should be enough to steady his nerves without throwing him off. He tucks himself in a corner, out of the way but still visible, and lets the party go on around him.

Eventually Glasses materializes beside him.

“There you are.”

The man looks down at his wrist, the red band there.

“It’s your turn twenty-three. C’mon.”

Glasses turns and walks away, leaving Keith to push through the crowd after him. They go to the bannister and then up two flights of stairs. There’s people milling around on both levels, and no one gives him at all a spare look.

“I’m not allowed to tell you how many have dropped,” Glasses says as they walk down the hallway of the third floor, “but your odds are getting better.”

He stops them at a non-descript door. Glasses turns to him and then his hand reaches for Keith’s wrist. On instinct Keith almost jerks it away.

“This task is about endurance. You’ll go in and see how long you can last. You can tap out at any time either verbally or double-tap.” Glasses illustrates by double-tapping the back of Keith’s hands. “It’s not a disqualification per say, but the longer you last the better the score.”

The man leans in close then, eyes dropping to look at Keith’s mouth. Keith’s heart ratchets up and his whole body freezes.

“And between you and me, you need to make up some ground for that wrestling match.”

Keith swallows hard. He feels the heat bleed into his cheeks, and he isn’t sure if the shame is because of the failure or because of how the man is hungrily looking at him.

Just as suddenly as it happened though, the man steps back and lets go of Keith. He steps around Keith and starts back down the hallway. “Good luck twenty-three,” he calls as he leaves.

And then it’s just Keith and the door.

He takes a deep breath and then another. He has a sense of what might be beyond this door, and if that’s true then he will need his endurance. The wrestling match is a blot on his record that he needs to rectify.

Keith reaches for the handle and opens the door.

Inside is dark, but at once there’s a man. Hands slide around him to pull him in.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” the man says. Keith blinks, trying to adjust to the darkness to see. He’s moved through the room and then pushed un-gently onto a bed. Keith hits it with a whuff of air.

“Did you see him at the Beta trial?” Someone else asks.

Keith tries to turn over to get a better sense of the room, but a hand stops him. It pushes him back onto his belly.

“Hard to miss.”

There are more hands on him, some tugging off his shirt, another pair working the button to his jeans. It doesn’t take long before Keith’s in just his briefs, and then nothing at all. A hand stays planted on the center of his back, keeping him from moving.

Keith turns his head, his vision good enough now to make out some of the men’s features. There’s at least three people in the room with him. It’s hard to tell if he knows any of them, it’s still too dark, and during the events Keith has been trying hard not to look at anyone.

“You want the honors?”

“Only if I get to go first.”

There’s a scoff. “Fine. I want his mouth anyway.”

A bottle cap clicks open. “On your knees,” someone orders.

Everything is happening so fast, and Keith doesn’t know what to do. He’d had a hunch it would be something like this, but the reality is still catching him off guard. Is he really going to let them…?

“On your knees Omega,” another man goads. “You want a good score, don’t you?”

A hot flush of anger and humiliation zings through Keith. He knows what he needs to do, knows that he’s committed to making it in this fraternity and getting his future with Shiro, he just didn’t think it would be like this. That it would be this difficult.

It would be easier if they made him do it, if they didn’t make him a participant.

Keith swallows and gets his knees underneath him. He pushes up, bowing his spine and putting himself on display.

“Fucking hell,” one man says, “I take it back, give me the lube.”

“Fuck off,” the one directly behind Keith says. “Been thinkin bout this all week.”

A hand lands on Keith’s ass, smoothing over it covetously.

“One of the prettiest Omegas of the year I think.”

“Let’s see. Pull yourself apart for us, let us see that hole of yours.”

Keith’s hands curl tight into the sheets. It’s almost too much, the knowledge they’re all standing there looking at him on his knees. It’s only the cover of darkness that lets Keith gather strength to himself and try to block out the shame that’s filling up his belly.

“Unless you’d like to tap out.”

“Wouldn’t be the first tonight.”

He can’t tap out. He’s come so far and he’s so close. It’s just this left, and surely Keith can get through it. His hands unclench and he has to lean his weight more onto his head and shoulders to reach back. He pulls himself apart just as they asked.

Behind him is a hard breath.

“Fuck, that’s good.”

Then a wet finger touches his rim and Keith startles hard. His hands drop and he almost moves away except for the heavy presence to the center of his back.

“Ah, ah. Put your hands back. I wanna see that pink hole when I open you up.”

“Yeah, be a good boy.”

Keith grits his teeth and does as he’s told.

This time when the finger returns, he expects it. He doesn’t so much as quiver, as his muscles are tight and tense. The finger swirls around his rim, wetting him with lube. Without warning, it presses in.

Keith makes some sound he can’t control, and there’s a sound of amusement from the men.

“Tight. You a virgin?”

Keith isn’t, but it’s a near thing. He’s only been fucked twice and both were clumsy, fast things. Nothing about this seems like it’s going to be the same. He shakes his head.

“Too bad,” someone says. “Would’ve loved to pop your cherry. Had a few Omegas that were virgins, at least in taking it. They were surprised to find how much they liked how I fucked them.”

Someone snorts. “Your dick ain’t that good James.”

“You would know Griff,” James shoots back.

The third man sighs long-suffering. “Will you two please put a lid on it? I do not need that mental image.”

James laughs and pushes his finger deeper into Keith. Keith clenches at the pain of the stretch.

“Come on Lo, you know you’ve always wanted to be the jam in our sandwich.”

“Twins are not my thing,” Lo says. “But if you keep fucking around and wasting time I’m going to boot you.”

“I’m not fucking around,” James says. His finger pulls back only to push back in with two. “I’m letting this tight little hole get warmed up before we wreck it.”

Keith’s teeth clack together. He wishes he could block it all out, the talking, the sensations. The way they’re having a casual conversation as one of the men fingers Keith is undoing him from the inside out. He’s just an object there that they are going to use at their own leisure.

Sure, Keith could tap out, but he’s not going to. Maybe they know that.

“Well do hurry up,” says Lo.

James does after that. There’s two and then three fingers. They rock into Keith wet with lube, and Keith feels every moment of it. He’s still holding himself open as though he’s begging for it.

“Okay, he’s ready,” James says. There’s a sound of unzipping and then heat along Keith’s backside as the man steps closer.

The other man, Griff, gets onto the bed in front of Keith. Positioned like this Keith can only see his jeans and feel the weight shift of the mattress.

“All fours,” Griff says.

Keith follows that order easily, letting go of himself and pushing up onto his hands. It brings his head up and he can suddenly see Griff. He’s nondescript in the dark, lean and muscled and dressed casually. Kneeling in front of Keith, he unbuttons his own jeans. Griff pulls his cock out and it’s half-hard, practically in Keith’s face.

“Needless to say, injury to any of us will result in disqualification,” the man, Lo, says from Keith’s right. “You tap out or you take it.”

Keith nods. Before him Griff is stroking himself to hardness. Behind him James is lining himself up. Without anything further, a cockhead touches Keith’s hole and then pushes in.

Keith’s mouth drops open on a gasp, but then a cock is just there, sliding over his lips. He fights his own urge to move away, to push them off. Neither stop. The twins fill him from both ends until Griff hits Keith’s gag reflex.

“Fuck,” James hisses and shoves forward, burying himself to the hilt. “He’s so tight.”

Keith can’t tell how big James is, but he _feels_ enormous. It burns and Keith tries to get breath, but can’t. He gulps instead clumsily around the cock.

Hands thread into his hair and pull him back before forcing him to swallow Griff’s cock again. James behind him takes hold of his hips and does the same. It’s a slow, mismatched rhythm at first. The boys make sounds of approval as they work themselves into Keith.

Then, as if as conversation has occurred, they hit a stride. James fucks into him, shoving him forward and into Griff. The cock plunges into Keith’s throat and he chokes wetly, barely managing to keep his teeth out of the way.

James pulls him back then, slipping halfway out and freeing Keith’s airway. When he shoves forward the cycle starts anew.

“How am I— _ah_ — supposed to last with him choking on my cock like that?”

“Lasting is not quite the point,” Lo says. “At least not for you two.”

Keith’s hand claw into the sheets trying to hold on as he’s rocked between the two. James has started to pick up speed, angling himself to glance right over where Keith is most sensitive. It sends pings of sensation up through Keith’s spine and scrambles all his nerves. It hurts even as it begins to feel good. Even as the shame of it is making him hard between his legs. He wants to block it out, but it’s too much. It’s all he can do just to hold on.

As they both begin to fuck him harder, beginning to chase their please, Keith’s lungs start to _ache_. The loss of air is making him dizzy, and he feels like any control he had begins to slip. He’s suddenly hyper aware of Lo, the uppity leader of the group, who is standing and merely watching. What must Keith look like to him?

_Like someone so desperate to get into the fraternity he’ll let himself be used like a fucktoy._

“Griff,” James says, voice pitched low as his fingers dig in on Keith’s hips.

“Almost— fuck. That’s it—“

The hands in his hair pull hard then, dragging Keith forward. Griff’s cock hits the back of his mouth hard and then lodges in his throat. Keith’s throat spasms at once and his arm comes up to stop it, but he catches himself at the last moment.

James ruts hard into his ass as Keith chokes and sputters.

And then Griff is groaning and rocking against him and coming. Keith swallows as the lack of air becomes a serious problem. His arms wobble and threaten to give out.

Griff pulls out, and the last couple pulses are hot and sticky across Keith’s face.

James is grunting and pressed deep. Keith feels the twitch of him coming inside him. He finds it hard to care as his head bows and he gulps for air. He feels half worn-through and he doubts he’s close to the end. This test was about _endurance_.

“Hell, that was good,” James says as he pulls out.

Hot wetness drips out of Keith’s hole. He wants to collapse, but doesn’t know if he should. He feels like if he lies down he might not have the will to get back up again.

“Been a while since we’ve had a spitroast brother,” Griff says. “Next time I want his ass though.”

From Keith’s left there’s an aggrieved sound.

“If you two are _done_ ,” Lo says.

“By all means dude.”

“Go clean yourself up, get Adam and Tee and Curtis,” Lo says.

“What, no afterglow?” James says.

“Do not test me,” Lo clips.

The twins make sounds of fuss, but Griff gets off the bed and then they are getting dressed. Footsteps go to the door. When it shuts behind them, Lo sighs.

“Apologies, not everyone in this fraternity is so uncouth.”

Lo slides onto the bed elegantly. He puts himself up to the headboard and then spreads his legs.

“Come,” he commands.

Keith shuffles forward, eyeing the man. In the dark Keith can tell he’s blond. His long hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and the sharpness of his features is hard to look away from.

“You may relax,” Lo says, patting the bed.

Keith settles carefully between the man’s thighs. He’s under no illusions that this is over.

“I’ll let you get your bearings before the second wave, hm?”

With that Lo reaches for his button and zip. He undoes it one handed and then pulls his cock out easily. It’s long, slender, and Keith wants to cringe from how his throat already aches.

“Open your mouth.”

There isn’t a choice. He’s come this far he needs to see it through, whatever this man is playing at. Keith shuffles close enough, and Lo guides him to rest his head at an angle on his thigh. His cock bumps Keith’s upper lip before sliding in.

“Easy now,” Lo says. His hand curls over the back of Keith’s head and pulls him close. The cock slips in halfway, but then stops. “Good. Now close your mouth.”

Keith wraps his lips around the girth, blinking up at the man. Lo is watching him with keen, dark eyes.

“Mmm, just like that,” he says.

Keith waits for more, but it doesn’t come. Lo pets over his hair, traces the shape of his ear, but doesn’t otherwise move. His cock doesn’t thrust in, but just sits in Keith’s mouth.

It’s so strange that Keith doesn’t know what to do. Every time he looks Lo is just watching him, face utterly content. It makes Keith feel stranger than what happened with the twins. At least with them he was just being fucked, this—

He doesn’t know what this is.

Lo’s finger trails down across his cheek and then to Keith’s lips. He traces the shape they make wrapped around his cock.

“You are quite beautiful,” the man says. His cock in Keith’s mouth twitches. “Too beautiful for these rough games, but… we all make our choices.”

Keith couldn’t answer even if he wanted to. His tongue instead shifts in his mouth. Lo lets out a heavier breath.

It continues like that. Minutes tick by and he touches Keith gently and watches him. At once point Keith has to shut his eyes because he’s flushed and uncomfortable by the gaze. His cock between his legs is somehow still hard, and now it’s a dull pressure. Once in a while Lo’s cock twitches again. When Keith needs to swallow there’s a salty taste in his mouth.

Eventually a knock breaks the silence. Without waiting, the door opens and there’s footsteps. Keith’s facing away so he can’t see who walks in.

“Oh, I should have known,” comes a voice that Keith recognizes. _Glasses_. “Need some more time for your… whatever?”

There’s a soft whuff of breath, and then before Keith realizes it, the man is coming in his mouth. Keith swallows it at once, completely caught off guard. When he looks up his eyes meet Lo’s. The man is still staring, watching Keith swallow.

“No,” Lo says soft as his cock gives a last dribble of come on Keith’s tongue. “I think that will be all.”

“You’re so strange,” Glasses says as he walks closer. He looms over them. “But I guess I can see the appeal.”

Lo moves Keith back and his softening cock slips from Keith’s mouth.

“All yours Adam,” Lo says as he tidies himself and gets off the bed. “He’s at +8.”

Adam, clearly the man with the glasses, gives a low whistle. “Full marks, that’s impressive. Ready for more?”

It’s not exactly phrased like a question, but Keith nods. Full marks sounds good, he needs to keep going.

Adam laughs. “Perfect. Go ahead Tee.”

One of the men that came in with Adam manhandles Keith, moving him back to the edge of the bed. Keith’s feet drop to the floor, but even before he can get his bearings from the shift there’s a cock shoving into him.

Keith is still wet from the twins and the sound is slick, obscene. Tee grabs hold of his hips and buries himself deep in a single stroke. Keith chokes and fists the bedding. Despite being well used, Tee is clearly bigger than the last cock he took.

And he doesn’t start slow. He just starts fucking Keith, using him as carelessly as one would a cocksleeve. Keith barely registers Adam climbing up onto the bed until there’s a hand in his hair. The man turns his head so when Keith opens his eyes he can see him there watching. The small amount of light in the room glances off his glasses.

“Tee will be quick,” Adam says.

Even as he does, the man fucking into Keith is speeding up. He’s near silent as he does so, but his breathing gives him away. He’s enjoying himself.

“Curtis will be quicker. He’s got a thing for messy cunts.”

“Fuck off,” the man who must be Curtis says. Adam laughs.

Then Tee is yanking Keith back hard and pressing in as deep as he can. Keith feels the twitching that means he’s coming.

“+10,” Adam whispers to him.

It makes Keith clench and the man finishing hisses. When he pulls out after that there’s a gush of wetness. Curtis curses as he switches places with Tee. The clink of a zipper is all the warning Keith has before another cockhead is at his rim.

His cock isn’t as big, or maybe Keith’s gone a bit numb. It’s almost a relief. The next fucking is quicker, a messy jackhammering with little to no finesse. Curtis reaches down and smears the come across Keith’s skin as he fucks him, clearly reveling in it.

When Keith looks Adam is still there, watching him with half a smirk.

“You’re a natural twenty-three.”

Keith tries to glare in the dark, but Adam only laughs and pats his hair cloyingly.

“Fuck, so wet,” Curtis grits as he nears the end. “ _Take it_ , just—“

And then he’s spilling inside Keith with a moan of broken syllables.

“+12,” Adam says. “More?”

Keith grits his teeth and nods.

To Tee Adam says, “Go get Reggie and Andre.”

After that is a little of a blur. Men come and fuck him, or put him on his knees and make him gag on their cocks. Keith can hardly keep track, the only thing he focuses on is Adam and his constant low-volume tally.

It’s two points for every cock he takes, three points for simultaneous. When Keith figures this out he makes sure to keep himself full from both ends. The men come in and out, dictated by Adam’s choosing. Every time he asks if Keith wants more, Keith nods.

“He’s insatiable,” one says when Keith reaches to take his cock into his mouth.

Keith burns with it, all the words and comments they throw at him. They call him _slutty_ , comment on how he starts to gape. On how the come is smeared all down the back of his legs. He sucks two cocks while someone blows in his ass, letting one finish on his face as he swallows the other down.

Adam gives him an extra point for it.

“Cock hungry,” another says as he pulls out of Keith’s mouth and then takes his ass.

“You’re running out of Alphas,” Adam says after another pulls out and finishes on his back.

Keith’s eyes drop to Adam’s own cock. He can tell it’s hard, but Adam’s made no move.

The man pets his hair again. It’s sweaty and tacky now. Keith’s sure he looks an absolute mess. He feels debauched.

“Dangerous territory here,” Adam says. “The points are high but so is the risk.”

The last man pulls out, and Keith grimaces. He’s sore and aching. His cock is still hard because he’s never been able to come untouched, and no one has been interested in doing so.

“I want it,” Keith says. His voice is a raspy ruin.

Adam grins like a shark.

“It comes in two parts,” he says as he waves the other men from the room. “I’ll fuck you, and then we’ll bring in the Champion. For the second part there will be no opportunity to tap out.”

“And I get in?” Keith asks.

He knows it’s a trap, knows inherently Adam would only look this eager because it’s something Keith will hate. Still, he’s come this far. He’s here to win.

“No one else has gotten to Champion,” Adam says in lieu of answer. It’s enough though.

“Then yes.”

“Kol,” Adam says before the door can close. The man learns back in. “Wait fifteen minutes and then bring the Champion.”

There’s a pocket of whispers from the doorway. Keith can hear the guttural clippings of swears. Then the door snaps closed. It’s just Adam left.

The man wastes no time in dragging Keith up and turning him onto his back.

“They’ve really done a number on you,” he says.

Quickly he shucks off his own pants, and then climbs on top of Keith. That knife-smile is there the entire time.

“Now, do your best not to come Omega. Best to save it up for Champion.”

With that he lays down on Keith, sliding their bodies into almost complete alignment. His cock slides against Keith's. It’s weird, too close and personal after so much fucking. Even the blowjobs had been just the men using him. This is a lot more like Lo. Keith shuts his eyes.

“Eyes open,” Adam snaps. Keith complies at once. “Want you to remember this. When you make it in, I want you to know who made it happen.”

It’s ominous in a way that raises the hairs on the back of Keith’s neck.

“Good boy.”

The sex after that isn’t really much. Adam just moves on top of him, frotting their cocks together. When he needs to he reaches down and dips his fingers into Keith’s messy hole and uses it to lubricate.

What messes with Keith is the closeness. Adam is _right there_ , on top of him, watching him as he does it. He moves sensually, enjoying himself, and it _does something_ to Keith. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like it at all in fact, but his cock still responds. After a long plateau of all the men fucking him, it starts to leak.

“I can’t wait to see your face after,” Adam says. He’s starting to breathe hard, as though whatever thought he’s having is doing it for him. “When you _know_.”

Alarm bells go off in Keith’s head, but there’s nothing for it. Whatever Adam is playing at, it’s far, far too late. Keith’s already in the trap.

“I didn’t know— but you’re so _dedicated_. So loyal. _Fuck_.”

He reaches down and wraps a hand around both their cocks. Keith jerks at the sensation.

“You’re going to be so delicious.”

He’s moving faster on top of Keith, and Keith can do nothing but look. Adam’s eyes are pinning him down with a kind of dark glee.

“I do background, you know?” Adam says. “Everything about the new rush’s, I know. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have favorites. There’s— _ah_ — a couple every year you can just tell are going to make it, that have the _patience_ and _greatness_ to.”

His head drops down beside Keith’s. His hand is now flying over their cocks, and it’s all Keith can do to bite his own lip and stop himself from coming. His head is pounding in a strange, fearful way from the words. There’s a weight to them he doesn’t understand but he knows he soon will.

“That’s how I knew— _fuck_ , that you would make it Keith.”

Adam comes. He spills on Keith’s cock and belly and Keith just tries to bear it. He’s so close to coming, but he can’t— can’t give Adam the satisfaction of that loss.

Adam collapses down in a huff of breath. It lasts only a moment though, then he’s up and pushing himself off of Keith.

“Roll over.”

Keith does. He shifts as Adam taps at him.

“You’ll have your face covered for Champion,” Adam says. “You can make sounds, but if you speak you’ll lose all those precious points you’ve accrued. There will be no tapping out, you’ll take it until it’s over. If you make too much noise you may be gagged, but I will be here the entire time to monitor. You will not be in any way permanently physically harmed.”

There’s little comfort in the instructions. If anything how particular they are ratchets Keith’s anxiety up.

Beside him Adam strips the pillowcase off a pillow and then places it over Keith’s head. He carefully makes sure Keith has a path to breathe.

They stay like that a few more minutes. Keith’s heart has calmed a little, but his anxiety is still shimmering just under the skin. He’s almost done, almost. There’s just one man left.

The Champion. He wants to know what the nickname is for, but he’s already afraid he’s about to find out. There’s a knock at the door.

“Not a word,” Adam warns and then calls for the door to open.

In spills a riot of voices.

“Holy shit, who is it?”

“I’ve got to see this.”

“Fuck, he looks wrecked already.”

“Woah there. C’mon.”

A laugh and then, “Mm, not tonight big guy, there’s someone waiting for you.”

There’s a chorus of laugher as they move closer to the bed. Keith can tell from beneath the pillowcase that the door’s been left open and light is spilling into the room. There are a lot of voices. A crowd.

“Who…?”

That voice, though slurred, breaks through all the rest. It’s an instant knife into Keith’s belly. Adam’s hand comes down on his head as though expecting a reaction.

“He made us swear not to tell,” someone else says.

“He’s a huge fan.”

There’s more laughter. Then Adam, “C’mon Shiro, look at him. A couple guys fucked him but it wasn’t enough.”

The name, the confirmation, is more than enough to send Keith spiraling.

Shiro? Is _here?!_

Keith tries to get up, more instinct than anything. Adam’s hand keeps him down.

“Yeah _Champion_.”

“Show him.”

“Guys,” Shiro says. He’s more than slurring, very obviously drunk. Still he sounds in good spirits, like he’s joking with them.

There’s some laughter and the sound a hand clapping a back.

“C’mon dude.”

“He’s waiting, look.”

Adam taps at Keith’s hips meaningfully. Keith doesn’t know what to do, but his body does. He pushes up onto wobbily knees. Several of the men make crude comments. Shiro swears.

Something bumps Keith’s backside, and he can feel the heat of a presence. _Shiro_. He face is hot, burning with the knowledge. Shiro is going to…?

Everything Adam said drops through him. Backgrounds. Adam knew him. Knew…

There’s more movement, jostling. Other guys are close, almost beside Shiro. Keith wishes he could look, but also is glad for the blindness. He doesn’t think he could do this without it.

A hand touches his ass. “He looks…” Shiro says.

“Help him,” Adam says, but not to Shiro.

“Kinkade,” Shiro says, voice low with heat.

“You’ve had a chub all night,” another man says. “Don’t you want to put it to good use?”

Shiro hums and then is closer. There’s a sound of someone stroking a cock, and Shiro lets out a deep sigh. It runs up Keith’s spine.

“Fuck him Shiro,” Adam says. “He’s desperate for it.”

A hand pulls Keith open and then something blunt and hot— Shiro’s cock— touches Keith’s hole. A hand keeps stroking, bumping against Keith.

Keith has the image then of the other men supporting Shiro, feeding his cock into Keith. Shiro’s clearly too drunk, so they’re helping. They’re guiding him.

It’s all wrong, but Keith doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He can’t lose all the points, and Shiro doesn’t sound mad. In fact he sounds—

Big hands grab Keith’s hips.

Then there’s a push forward, and Shiro’s cock is pressing into him. It’s big, by far the biggest Keith’s ever taken, and it’s only because of all the mess and other men that Keith can even manage it. Still he makes an embarrassing sound as Shiro enters. A whine that’s barely stifled into the bedding. Shiro inside him is painful, and also everything he’s always wanted.

Not like this, never like this, but Keith’s too worn out to stop his mind and body from enjoying it anyway. There’s comments all around, sounds of appreciation from the group that’s gathered to watch. They’re cheering Shiro on, but Keith can barely hear them. It’s just Shiro’s low whuff of breath that permeates.

“Give us a show,” the man from before says. “ _Champion_.”

“Mmm,” Shiro says as he pushes in and in and _in_. There’s a slosh of come and _fuck_ , he’s fucking long.

Adam’s hand is still on Keith’s head. It’s grounding and suffocating at once. Keith can’t tell if he should fight or just take it. There’s too much at stake.

“Shiro,” Adam says. There’s a pause where Shiro stops moving, focuses on Adam. “I want you to _ruin him_.”

The words _do something_ to Shiro. There’s a shift in the air, in the pressure of the room. Shiro’s hands dig into Keith, and Keith takes a gulp of air. He already is so full, and it makes him want to shake apart. He can’t believe this is happening, that Shiro is—

Shiro pulls back and slams back in.

Keith makes a sharp cry, the loudest he’s made all night.

“He sounds good,” Shiro says. “Feels good.”

“It’s what he’s wanted all night,” Adam says. “A proper fucking.”

Shiro chuckles. It’s a sound Keith’s never heard before. It’s one he’ll never forget.

“That right?” Shiro says, pulling back to fuck in hard again. It electrifies Keith’s whole body and more desperate sounds spill out. “You wanted a real cock, baby?”

Keith opens his mouth and the hand on his head presses just enough to make him remember himself. The moan he makes into the sheets instead, and hopes it isn’t recognizable.

“Then,” Shiro drags Keith’s hips back, striking him deep. “That’s what I’ll give you.”

There’s more jeering from the crowd as Shiro begins to pick up the pace. He fucks Keith brutal and without pause, and it’s all Keith can do to hold on. His throat’s a wreck already from everything before this, and it burns every time Shiro forces a sound out of him.

Then the angle shifts ever so slightly and he’s hitting Keith’s prostate. He strikes it perfect and unforgiving. The first cry is too-loud, and at once Adam’s hand is over Keith’s mouth, pressing the pillowcase fabric down.

“That’s it,” Shiro says. “Fucking take it.”

His hands move up and to Keith’s waist. They’re so big they span most of him. He’s moving Keith so easily, all that strength put to use. It’s like every fantasy Keith’s ever had, but so much more. So much more visceral.

And before Keith knows it, his cock is throbbing and then pleasure erupts from deep in his belly. He inhales, chokes on the fabric in his mouth and comes. Shiro doesn’t slow at all and Keith comes and comes, making a mess of himself.

There are whistles and swears of appreciation. Keith flushes to realize they still have a crowd, that four or more men are just standing around watching him get wrecked by Shiro’s cock. His cock twitches one last time and the last of his spill dribbles out.

It’s so strange and different to come without direct stimulation. To come just on someone’s cock like he couldn’t help it. And he couldn’t.

“Fuck that’s so hot,” someone says.

“The slut likes it.”

“Of course he does,” Shiro says.

He has a gruff confidence that makes Keith’s head spin. He’s weak from the rush of pleasure, and he knows inherently he’s only still on his knees because Shiro is holding him up. Something about that is dangerously arousing. The confidence, the careless way Shiro knows he’s can fuck good.

The Champion.

_Fuck_.

“But he’s not finished yet.”

It’s a promise or a warning, and Keith whines pathetically as Shiro keeps fucking him. He’s so sore now, exhausted, but it’s not over.

Won’t be over until Shiro decides it is. There is no tapping out. A finger traces the curl of his ear, and Keith knows it’s Adam.

“Breathe,” a soft voice says.

Keith does. It helps a little. Barely.

Shiro keeps fucking him. He holds Keith up until he has enough strength back to do it himself, and then focuses on long and deep strokes. Keith goes from over-sensitivity and back into arousal before long. He feels humiliated by how much he likes it, by how much everyone can see him enjoying it. Adam may already know about him, but this is giving him away just as quick.

“He’s hard again.”

“You ever seen anyone take it that good?”

“No way.”

“He’s made for it.”

“Mm,” Shiro says with a slurred agreement. “Meant to take my cock, hm?”

And Keith does, on and on. Shiro fucks him and Keith does his best to not speak, does his best not to fall apart completely. He comes again unexpectedly, and then nearly sobs into the sheets when Shiro keeps going.

“Just one more baby,” Shiro says. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Keith rolls his head against the mattress and moans, lost. The crowd has grown in size and in awe. Their comments now are more cutting, several of them comment how they’d like to have him next, fuck him when he’s unconscious. Adam’s hand is there to pet and soothe, but it’s little consolation after the second orgasm. Keith feels brittle and swollen, and every time Shiro speaks it unravels him further.

“So good,” Shiro praises when Keith seemingly doesn’t protest. Tears drip from Keith’s eyes. “Such a mess but take it so good, fuck just watching your ruined hole take me is so hot.”

Keith can’t even imagine what he looks like. Covered in his own and other men’s come. Shiro’s huge, but the glide is so smooth, slick from how much he’s taken.

“Want my come, don’t you?”

And fuck, Keith does. He’s barely hanging in there, but he wants this more than anything else. He’s forgotten everything else, there’s only Shiro and his words, his praise. His cock.

Somehow the pain begins to subside once more as Shiro works him over. A hand wanders down to pluck at Keith's nipples, and then tease his sore cockhead. He clenches around Shiro when Shiro does.

“That’s it,” Shiro coaxes.

It lasts an age before Keith’s stiffened again. It’s guided by one thumb with rough callous that plays with him. It rubs too hard in the sensitive space under Keith’s cockhead.

“Gonna make me come,” Shiro says.

He leans into Keith more, putting his face down near Keith’s hidden one. Instantly Keith’s heartrate spikes.

“Tighten for me,” Shiro says.

Keith does, panting hot and utterly ruined. Shiro moans as he continues to drive in.

“That’s it— fuck—“

The hand in his hair jerks, sharp and quick and the pain explodes down Keith’s spine. His muscles all go rigid and Shiro grunts like all the air was kicked out of his lungs. He speeds up impossibly, rutting into Keith’s come-filled hole.

“Just— _ah_ — come on— so _good_.”

He’s close, about to come, and the thought it is spirals Keith up to impossible heights. It’s too much, too fast after everything he’s done.

“Sh—“ A hand cuts him off and then yanks again on his hair. It pushes Keith over the edge.

He comes hard, and above him Shiro makes a devastating sound and buries himself in Keith. There’s a twitching and a heat as he fucks in. As he comes in heavy, noticeable pulses.

The pleasure is sharp and destroying. Keith blanks even as he keeps clenching through waves of pleasure. Shiro is moaning in his ear, filling him. It’s everything. Nothing. His body gives out, finally, under the onslaught.

Keith blinks to come to what feels like seconds later, but must not be. Keith’s turned over on the bed, unmasked, and the room is empty. Empty except for Adam.

The man is standing across the room on his phone. When Keith shifts, he looks up. There still isn’t any light on in the room and it’s difficult to see him. The man smiles and the whites of his teeth show.

“There you are,” Adam says as he walks back to the bed. “How’re you feeling?”

Exhausted. Empty. Ruined. Keith groans.

“You look it.”

Keith manages to raise a middle finger.

“Thirty eight points might be a new record,” Adam says. He flashes his phone at Keith. “I’ve sent your tally. They won’t announce officially until Monday, but… congratulations.”

There should be joy or relief at this, but Keith feels nothing. He’s too exhausted to feel anything. He needs to shower and sleep. Tomorrow he can congratulate himself.

And have a crisis because _he had sex with Shiro_. The memories all roll back into him with that single thought.

_Holy shit._

“You can sleep here for the night if you like,” Adam goes on. “There’s a bathroom in there,” he points, “and I’ll engage the lock before I leave so no one will bother you. You’re also welcome to go back to your own dorm, but be warned the party is still on.”

As much as Keith wants to be in his own room again, the effort sounds mammoth. Even showering sounds hard.

“I’ll see you at the Initiation.”

Adam gives him a coy little wave then and moves to the door. He opens it and clicks the inside lock. It closes behind him a moment later to leave Keith entirely alone.

He stares up at the ceiling. In the distance he can hear the bass of the music playing from the party.

He did it. Made it into Alpha Beta Omega, and now he and Shiro are going to room together.

He and Shiro are going to—

Oh.

_Fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they were ROOMMATES! Did you catch all the cameos of people fucking Keith? I had a lot of fun designing this universe and the frat tasks. 
> 
> This fic was first just a horny thread on my twitter, and then [@nsfw_slouph](https://twitter.com/nsfw_slouph) made art for it, and it's been haunting me ever since. 
> 
> Comments as always inspire me to write more dark content, so scream at me!


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